can’t make love here!’ he groaned as he bit into her earlobe, tracing the gentle curve with his tongue.
‘No,’ she agreed, his chest bared to her questing hands and lips.
‘The sand is probably as damp as hell,’ he muttered between fevered kisses on her bared shoulders.
‘Yes,’ she said again, gasping slightly as he bit into her tender flesh, hearing his groan of satisfaction seconds later as her tongue sought and found the male nipple, feeling it harden beneath her caresses.
With the minimum of movement he had thrown off his sheepskin jacket and was lowering her down on to it, smoothing aside the unbuttoned front of her dress, releasing the fastening of her bra to bare her breasts to his avid gaze.
The sky could have fallen in on them at that moment and neither of them would have cared, Keilly arching up as his mouth claimed moist possession of one rosy-tipped breast, teeth closing about the nipple to bite down gently as ecstasy flooded her lower limbs, a slow warmth invading her thighs, the pleasure ten-fold as his hand claimed the other breast, his thumb moving roughly across the tip.
Both were oblivious to the storm rolling in off the sea, lost in a tempest of their own making, moist lips claiming other welcoming lips, hands avidly searching the pleasure spots of their bodies.
Rick’s hand was on her knee now, travelling slowly up her thigh, closing possessively over the delicious mound that lay beneath black lacy panties, the warmth increasing in Keilly as he slowly caressed her there, his hand moving surely beneath the lace to the waiting flesh below.
The storm of their making may have been strong, but the storm above them wasn’t to be denied any longer, huge drops of rain falling coldly on their heated flesh, Rick’s shirt soaked and clinging to his back within seconds as he lay across her. Even so he was loath to relinquish her mouth, leaving her with a frustrated groan, quickly buttoning her dress for her before pulling her coat warmly about her.
‘Your coat——’
‘I’ll see to that in a minute,’ he dismissed, his hair looking as black as her own now that it was wet. ‘Keilly,’ his hands framed her face, seemingly oblivious to the rain that was fast drenching them both. ‘No matter how much I wanted you just now I wouldn’t have taken you here,’ his gaze held hers steadily. ‘Making love on a beach, fumbling about in the dark as if we’re guilty of something, it isn’t how I want our first time together to be.’ His head bent and he kissed her slowly, lingeringly. ‘I’m going to give you champagne and roses when I make love to you. And a bed,’ he added meaningly.
She was warmed by the sincerity of his words, knew that the rain, the frantic haste to straighten their clothes, had dampened things in more ways than one. Rick taking the time—and getting waterlogged into the bargain!—to reassure her of his feelings made everything seem good again.
‘A bed can be made of many things, Rick,’ she sat up to assist him with his coat, although it was much too late to prevent him being soaked to the skin. ‘Down or sand, the important thing is who you share it with.’
He smiled, his eyes a deep warm blue. ‘My untamed witch!’ He bent to kiss her with lingering tenderness, his gaze intent for long breathless seconds before he quickly stood up, pulling her lightly to her feet. ‘Are there any caves along here where we can wait until the rain stops?’ He narrowed his eyes along the cliff face.
‘No caves,’ she took his hand and began to run. ‘But there’s an overhanging rock where we can take shelter.’
They reached the rock within minutes, huddling close together to avoid the worst of the rain.
As they stood there waiting for the onslaught to ease, reaction began to set in for Keilly. It was inevitable that it should, in all of her twenty-two years she could never remember behaving this wantonly before, and with a virtual stranger. She had been out with quite a few men, and several of them would have liked the relationship to progress further than the goodnight kisses she allowed them, but always in the past she had held out, knowing that most of them were just out for another conquest, someone they could tell their friends about afterwards.
But Rick was much older than any of the other men she had dated, was surely past the stage in his life where he needed to boast about physical conquests in order to feel good. And she believed him when he said he hadn’t intended making love to her on the beach, knew that no matter how aroused he had been he had also been completely in control, that he had had no intention of making their lovemaking into something childish and illicit.
‘I won’t come to your room tonight,’ she murmured against the dampness of his coat. ‘I know that.’
‘And you aren’t coming to mine either!’
‘No. Keilly,’ he raised her face gently with his hand. ‘I told you, I’m coming back, And I meant it.’
Happiness glowed in the darkness of her eyes. ‘When?’
‘I’m not sure yet—I will be back, Keilly,’ he insisted as disappointment clouded her face. ‘Now that I’ve found you I’ll let no other man tame you but me!’ His arms tightened painfully. ‘All that wildness and fire is going to be for me,’ he ground out fiercely.
She didn’t know if she were relieved or disappointed when it at last stopped raining ten minutes later, relieved because they could at last go and get out of these wet clothes, disappointed because she didn’t want this time with Rick to end.
He seemed to share her reluctance, for all that they were both wet and cold their walk back to the hotel was slow, their arms wrapped about each other hindering their speed even more. And neither of them minded in the least, stopping outside the hotel to kiss once more.
‘I was going to organise a search-party,’ her uncle Bill sighed his relief as they entered the hotel, a small wiry man with sandy-grey hair and twinkling blue eyes. ‘You had better go upstairs and shower, Keilly, before you catch pneumonia.’
‘She doesn’t even catch cold,’ Rick murmured, his gaze still locked on her flushed cheeks.
‘That’s true,’ her uncle nodded. ‘By the way, there was a telephone call for you while you were out, Mr Richards.’
Keilly felt the way Rick suddenly stiffened with tension, looking up at him enquiringly.
‘For me?’ he frowned. ‘Are you sure?’
Her uncle smiled. ‘Well you are our only guest, and the lady was quite clear about the name. She left a message for you here somewhere,’ he looked through the papers on the desk. ‘"Call Barbie”,’ he read. ‘Urgent, she said it was,’ he frowned.
‘Thanks,’ Rick nodded abstractedly. ‘I’ll call her as soon as I’ve changed.’
Keily could still sense his tension as he held on tightly to her hand. ‘Anything wrong, Rick?’ she prompted softly.
‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘Barbie—sometimes finds work for me,’ he explained abruptly. ‘We had both better do as your uncle suggested and take a shower.’
‘Separately, I hope,’ her Uncle Bill put in dryly.
Keilly’s indignant gasp was drowned out by the men’s shared laughter, and with a fierce glare at both of them she walked off to take her shower—alone! Really, she couldn’t imagine what had come over her uncle for him to make such a personal remark.
One look in the mirror once she reached her bedroom on the top floor showed her exactly why he had done it. Despite the wet slickness of her hair, slightly smudged make-up, and limp clothing, it was possible to see she had been thoroughly kissed, and by an expert too if the glow in her eyes was anything to go by.
‘Keilly?’ A knock sounded on the door to accompany the soft calling of her name. ‘Keilly, I have to talk to you.’
Rick! ‘I meant what I said earlier,’ she spoke to him through the thickness of the door.
‘I